


There is Quiet (For Just a Moment)

by AceQueenKing



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 09:49:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11644011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceQueenKing/pseuds/AceQueenKing
Summary: Javik and Liara have a small moment together before Shepard leads the final charge; It is not much, but in such times, it will have to be enough.





	There is Quiet (For Just a Moment)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ninaunn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninaunn/gifts).



 He finds her in the corner, of course.

It is something he's noticed frequently with the Asari; she has a penchant for going into observation mode, staring out at others. Once, he'd thought it was part of her job. Now, he knows it is her natural inclination; like many of her species, she is a thoughtful person, with a penchant for the detailed observation about and powerful emotions for those honored enough to be considered her friends.

He recognizes the expression on her face as she stares at Shepard; the bittersweet longing that suggests that Liara knows, as well as he does, that this is likely the last time she'll see the woman she's come to know as her best friend.

He comes up behind her and presses a hand to her shoulder.

It is not much, but in such times, it will have to be enough. She turns toward him, her eyes disturbingly wide and, surprisingly, she isn't alarmed. "I am not much one for comfort," he says, then, pausing, he allows himself to say her name. It has been long enough and she has proved herself strong enough for that sign of respect. "Liara T'Soni."

"Neither am I," she says, her lips quirking into a hint of a smile. "My mother taught me to always be quite grounded in my future predictions. We're going to lose a lot of them here, aren't we?"

"Yes," he says, not mentioning that in his cycle, the loss would be far more severe. In his cycle, the loss would be total. No one comes back from the Reapers, he knows this. She does, too. But despite them both knowing it, he isn't able to stop himself from saying, "We will likely be casualties as well."

"As great a chance as anyone else has to be one," she says, smiling sadly. This, he thinks, is the look that he will remember from this cycle, the haunted look of a friend who has lost too much and yet still must lose so much more.

"Yes," he says, then, awkwardly, because he is not the type to ever bear a comforting hand, he says, "I intend to do all I can to send as many of these Reaper scum back to the Otherworld before I am returned to my brothers and sisters, of course."

"I don't plan on giving up myself," she says and doesn't accuse him of leaving her out of his own pledge the way she would have not six months earlier. She is learning how he thinks and he is vaguely alarmed to realize that he is honored by this, by the Asari's attention. "There's a lot of people I need to protect."

"Like Shepard," he says, and wonders for the first time if the Asari's interest in the human is more than friendship. Her pheromones do not scream it, but then he does not see her exuding many pheromones at all. She is understated, for her species, and he finds himself liking that. There's a part of him that might be jealous if she answers yes, but he does not like that part of himself and does not listen to it. It is too late for such silly thoughts.

"Yes," she says, nodding. "She is a good friend. The whole crew is. They're all so young, you know?" That isn't true, of course; he himself is several thousand years old; the loud, old Krogan with the shotgun is only a couple hundred years younger than him, and even Liara T'soni herself is over 100 years old. "They all have so many dreams, so many plans unfinished."

This is the Shadow Broker in her, he understands; the desire to compartmentalize people into things - jobs, desires, places, plans, futures. It does not matter; it will all come to naught. His hand tightens on her shoulder, and she grabs it, her thin blue fingers tracing the rougher edges of his knuckles.

"What is it you will do, when this is over?" T'Soni asks, her voice wavering. "Assuming you don't die, of course."

"I will join my brothers and sisters," he says, grunting. "One way or another, it will be over after this."

She strokes his hand thoughtfully and he can all but hear her thoughts as she does. They've discussed many things - religion, history, weaponry, war - but never have they discussed what lays beyond _this_.

"You're the last voice of the Protheans," she says, her voice wavering, and he wonders if the part of him he cannot admit to himself is matched in her, a part of her longing but damned to ruin. "It would be a shame to silence that voice."

"It is not our time," he says, and she winces, so he knows he sounds harsh. "You all have proven yourself more competent in fighting the Reapers. It is our - our duty to be forgotten."

She is silent again, thoughtful, stroking his hand. He stands with her in silence, listening for the wail of the banshee coming to ruin this moment of calm.

"Perhaps we have only gotten so far based on those who have come before." She raises an eyebrow. "Would you let me...tell your story? I've written a great deal about your people and - as it turns out - " She smiles. "Most of it was wrong. I would like a chance to set the record straight."

"Hmph." He lets his hand run down her beautiful blue cheek, is surprised to find a soft wetness to her scales. A tear? She should not mourn him. "If we survive this, T'soni, I will tell you whatever you want."

He lets himself give in and whisper in his pheromones all the things he does not say: _I am yours if you will it, I will tell you all you wish to hear, I will tear your enemies to pieces for simply opposing you_.

Shepard turns toward them, barks out a command to go.

"It's time," Liara says, reaching out and pressing her hand to his cheek in an intimacy that burns with its futility.

"Lead the way, T'soni," he says, pulling out his gun, and he vows to live on, as long as he can.


End file.
